Fireworks
by SWhite42
Summary: I meant to have this done by the 4th, but life happened. Clint takes Natasha to see her very first fireworks. Pretty much just fluffy goodness.


"Hey Natasha!" Clint called, jumping up from his comfortable position on the couch and practically running over the where his partner leaned against the kitchen counter. He mimicked her stance against the counter opposite her, crossing his arms.

"What?" She asked flatly without looking up from her latest book. She thinks he's like a goddamn puppy sometimes.

"Let's do something normal tonight." He suggested enthusiastically. Clint felt anxious and restless, they hadn't been on a mission in weeks. Quite simply, he was bored.

"Is reading not normal?" Natasha looked up from her book and raised one sleek eyebrow at him questioningly. He looked at her blankly for a moment, then suddenly pushed of the counter and closed the space between them in two steps. They were now dangerously in each others personal bubble, but Clint could tell she wasn't going to fuss about it. Natasha was keeping up the pretense of reading, though the warmth radiating off Clint's body made actually reading quite difficult for her. He reached up and covered her hands with his and slowly closed her book, tossing it carelessly on the floor once he discarded it from Natasha.

Clint still held her hands firmly and moved them to rest palm down on the counter as he leaned in further, pressing his body firmly against hers. There was literally no space between them now, and Natasha fought very hard to keep her breathing even with him so close.

He was simply intoxicating. She loved nothing more than to lose herself in Clint. In his touch, taste, smell, and voice. He made her breath hitch, pulse raise, knees weak, the whole deal, and she loved every minute of it. And now, with him so tightly pressed against her, she felt her control slipping. Even more so when she felt his nose lightly trace her jaw, but he didn't stop there. That oh so wickedly talented tongue lapped at the shell of her ear and her breath hitched.

"You know that's not what I meant, Tasha." Clint whispered darkly in her ear. Natasha groaned and pushed harder into him to get as close as possible to him. Then, he suddenly pulled away, and sauntered to his room.

"Get some clothes on, Tash. We're going out tonight!" He called excitedly back to her.

"You're a fucking tease!" She shot back in frustration. He was back out in a minute having shed his shirt. Natasha bit her lip as she took in the sight of him. Shirtless, his jeans hanging a little too low on his hips, hair messy, it was too much. She bit her lip and groaned as she walked to her own room to put more acceptable clothes on. She emerged not five minutes later in a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and her favorite brown leather jacket.

"You take too long." Clint whined from where he was waiting by the door.

"No, you're just impatient." She replied cooly. "Where are we going anyways?"

"You'll see." He quipped with a cheeky smile as he swept out of their apartment.

Half an hour later they were on top of an old bridge, and Natasha still was no idea what was going on.

"What are we doing here." She asked irritably, she hated surprised.

"Do you know what day it is?" He cocked his head to one side, his mouth hanging open a little bit. Not that she'd ever tell him, but Natasha loved when he did that.

"It's the fourth, right?" She answered, clearly confused.

"It's the Fourth of July, Natasha!" He all but shouted.

"I'm failing to see why that's a big deal." Her face was completely serious which made Clint practically double over in laughter.

"What?" She snapped defensively.

"Natasha," He wheezed out between laughs. "It's Independence Day!" Her face was still blank.

"I know that." She cried. "I just don't know why we're here." She explained.

"For the fireworks!" Natasha's face remained blank.

"Have you ever seen fireworks, Nat?" He asked a bit softer.

"No." She replied flatly and Clint broke out into the biggest, stupidest grin that made Natasha's heart practically melt. He pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped firmly around her waist.

"Perfect." He whispered into her hair. She pulled away and turned her back on him in frustration.

"How is that 'perfect'?" She sighed, dejectedly. "How is the fact that I'm farthest freaking thing from normal 'perfect'?" Clint stepped forward and wrapped his arms back around her waist and dragged her back against him so her back was pressed into his chest.

"Because," He whispered. "I love having firsts with you." He finished simply and kissed her hair. "Because I get to be a first for you." Clint felt the tension leave Natasha's body and relax into him, and he held her even closer.

Sometimes being with Clint was hard for Natasha. She always felt like she was too far gone, too fucked up, too broken for him. She had a list of problems longer than her leg and a past that would've sent most people howling to the nuthouse. She always thought he deserved somebody better. But, then he reminded her that he didn't care about all that. He accepted her past, and her flaws, and mistakes gladly. He reminded her that all those things were a part of her, and would always be, but her loved her anyways. He loved the things she hated about herself.

"C'mon." He urged, tugging her towards the thick, concrete railings of the bridge. He picked her up and set her down on top of the ledge and climbed up after her. He pulled her into her lap and they got settled just as the first fireworks went off above them.

He watched as Natasha's face lit up with wonder. Fireworks were a simple, and joyous part of childhood. Natasha had her childhood stolen, and he hoped maybe he could give some of it back to her. He spent more time watching her than the show. Her emerald eyes were wide with delight, the fireworks reflecting in their swirling depths. Her mouth hung open slightly, her tongue occasionally darting out to lick her lips. When the big, loud fireworks went off she leaned back into him, a peal of laughter bubbling off her lips.

When the finale began, Clint stood up abruptly, almost knocking Natasha off the bridge. He then hauled her to her feet to protest and kissed her hard. It took her a moment to react, but when she did she kissed back with equal, if not greater, force. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss and Natasha buried her hands in his hair to pulled them closer together. She kissed him passionately, pouring all her all her gratitude and love for him into that kiss. She felt his warm tongue pass over her bottom lip and opened her mouth reflexively. She felt her knees go weak as his gentle, but firm tongue roamed her mouth, putting pressure in all the right places. They stayed entwined until a burning need for oxygen forced them to pull apart.

Clint rested his forehead against hers, silent as the last of the fireworks went off.

"I love you, Tasha." He whispered against her skin once it was silent.

"I love you too, Clint." And, for the first time in her life, Natasha actually meant it.


End file.
